


Bring Your Sidekick to Work Day

by Snailicorn



Series: The Most Important Things [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Justice League - All Media Types
Genre: Batman - Freeform, Bruce Wayne is a Good Dad, Dick Grayson is Robin, First Impressions, First Meetings, Fluff, Gen, SECRETLY, batman is scary, don't worry he'll come around someday, has illustration, i mean he thinks so anyway, irresponsible adults, justice league - Freeform, mind reading has side effects, superman does not approve, superman is a responsible adult, supes does not agree, the league loves robin because he is smol and precious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 19:01:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10314905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snailicorn/pseuds/Snailicorn
Summary: Batman is called in to look over some intel the League has just before he starts his nightly patrol. There's no reason to waste time dropping Robin off at home first.(Robin gets to meet the League, or some of them anyway. Their opinions are... largely positive.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> ah, with this i have broken my "one fic every two years" streak
> 
> now with a crap illustration also by me. here's my terrible art blog: http://effigy-draws.tumblr.com/

As Superman stood waiting at the teleporters, he expected nothing out of the ordinary. There was no urgent mission, no sudden disaster. There would only be Batman, aloof yet disgruntled, materializing before him in a moment. He would appear, demand to know why he had been called to the base, passive-aggressively scold Superman for summoning him for a non-emergency, then accomplish his task and be on his way. He would speak few if any words to anyone else. It was simply how these things worked.

It wasn’t pleasant being the object of Bruce’s annoyance, but it wasn’t like anyone else was willing to ask him to come in and look over the intel the League had recently received. Clark knew this for a fact—he had tried to get out of it himself—but, alas, _someone_ had to disrupt the Bat’s plans for the evening, and it might as well be him. He _did_ try to assert himself and be a leader, after all.

The sound of the zeta-beam teleporters kicking on rang in his ears, tickling his eardrums with the warping sound that few others could even hear. It was, he mused, not unlike the black shape forming before him—not a truly bad thing, but far from pleasant to endure. Bruce being curt outside of his public persona was a fact of existence; the sky was blue, the Earth circled the Sun, and Batman was annoyed. All was, for better or for worse, right with the world.

A flash of yellow behind black. Clark’s eyebrows rose. Something was different after all.

The Dark Knight narrowed his gaze; impressive considering the cowl was covering them, and stepped forward toward Superman off the platform. Before Clark could open his mouth to speak, the boy appeared from behind Bruce, and Clark remembered.

He had heard, months ago, that Batman had taken on an assistant. It had been whispered about by other members of the League when they believed, usually incorrectly, that Bruce could not hear them. There had even been footage on the news and social media that allegedly showed a _child_ trailing behind the vigilante. How strange, the others had gossiped, that their logical, brooding, and endlessly serious teammate would involve a child in his crime fighting.

Clark hadn’t given it much thought. The videos were always shot from a long distance away, in the dark—it had seemed obvious to him that they were all the result of editing, misunderstanding, or both. Besides, he knew Bruce. Bruce would never permit a child (or any civilian, for that matter), to tag along into danger. It made no sense. It simply wasn’t who Bruce was, and it certainly wasn’t who Batman was.

Truth is rather harder to ignore when it is right in front of you, staring up into your face with eyes somehow expressing wonder through a mask. The boy was small—certainly no older than 10, with a costume bright by normal standards but nearly blinding next to the Batman’s black. Clark gaped, unable to organize his thoughts. Luckily, the boy spoke for him:

“ _Woooow!_ ” the child gasped in awe. Beside him, Bruce looked from the boy to Clark and back, and sighed.

“Superman, this is Robin. Robin, Superman,” the man monotonously introduced. Looking down at his sidekick he added, “Don’t touch anything.”

“Oh. Uh, hi. Nice to meet you,” Clark stuttered, awkwardly offering his hand to the boy. Robin took his hand and, though he tried his best to be gentle, Clark was terrified he would rip the boy’s arm out of the socket when he shook it. Robin’s hand was scarcely half the size of his own.

“ _Woooooooow!_ ” Robin exclaimed again, more of a whisper than a substantial voice.

An aura of irritation emanating from him, Bruce strolled coldly past them. Clark watched his cape flutter as he moved. Without turning back, Bruce spoke, “What exactly did you need? I haven’t got all night.” He walked down the corridor into a larger room and pulled up a display on the previously hidden computer.

Superman marched after him, but Robin skipped past, having finally broken out of his star struck stupor. He had to run to cover the same distance as either man’s long strides. The absurdity of the image made Clark shake his head. “A prisoner in Arkham suddenly got talkative. We need you to read through his report and see if he can be believed, if it’s a plea for attention, or if it’s part of a larger ploy. I figured you knew Arkham inmates best, so your opinion would be valuable,” he approached Bruce, casting one last glance at Robin, who was wandering the room, desperate to take it all in. The Man of Steel leaned in closer and muttered, “So it’s true? You’ve got a kid running around with you now?”

Bruce did not turn to face him. “Says here he’s been affected by Scarecrow’s toxin over 12 times in the past. I highly doubt that. Even if he has been, prolonged exposure to the gas is known to cause irreparable damage to the brain. That’s already one strike against the trustworthiness of his testimony.”

“What is he, a grade schooler? You’re bringing a little kid with you while you take out drug dealers and pimps and, you know, _every other violent criminal in Gotham?_ ”

Bruce flicked the screen with his index finger, highlighting a section of text. “Here, he claims he saw the Joker for the first time two weeks ago but here,” he highlighted another section, “he says he worked under him in December. It’s not impossible that he did the Joker’s bidding before he ever met him in person, but it’s unlikely. That’s not how the clown runs things.”

“Bruce,” Clark began again, exasperation clear in his voice, “we have to talk about this. I can’t just ignore it if you’re endangering a minor on a regular basis! And where are his parents? He’s not—” Clark cut himself off, a dawning realization of how little he actually knew about Bruce Wayne weighing his shoulders down, “You’re not his father… are you?”

“No,” Bruce replied, still scrolling through the report.

Clark was shocked at his nonchalance, “So you’re telling me you’re running around the deadly back alleys of Gotham with a _child,_ and he’s not even _yours_?! What did you tell his pa—”

Bruce turned to face him suddenly, “I said I wasn’t his father. I didn’t say he wasn’t my responsibility.”

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It wasn’t that meeting Superman wasn’t incredible (because, wow, how many people could say they’d shook _his_ hand?!), but Dick knew he had only a limited amount of time to see the base. He had never met any of the Justice League before, despite a lot of begging. He and Batman had been on their way out to patrol, just as the sun was setting. Bruce liked to have as thorough a comb through Gotham as possible, so Dick knew he shouldn’t expect to be here long. It was like going to the circus a few hours before it closed; you had to budget your time if you wanted to see everything.

With that thought, he cautiously made his way back down the corridor they had come through moments before, and from there chose a different path. This hall was thinner than the main one, and lined with mostly unmarked doors. How did anyone know where they were going? Were they just supposed to remember the layout after their first time to the base? Did they ever walk into the wrong bathroom?

As he pondered, a door he had just passed opened with a hiss. Though he knew this base was the least likely of all to hold a villainous threat, he jolted. His senses had been tightly honed by Batman’s training even though it had been less than a year since they met, and he reacted quickly. He flattened himself to the wall and held a birdarang at the ready.

Flash’s reaction time, despite his reputation, was slow. He entered the hall and startled, raising his hands and staring at the kid in front of him for a solid three seconds. Confusion was replaced with amusement, and he stooped lower to meet the boy’s eyes. “I didn’t know it was Bring Your Kid to Work Day!”

Faster than Dick could see, the man took the birdarang from his hand, examined it briefly, then tossed it aside in the hall. “You’re the Flash,” Robin exclaimed, then winced at the obviousness of his comment.

Barry grinned, “Yep! And I take it you’re Batman’s new, uh, _helper_. Where is the Big Bad Bat, anyway?” The speedster looked past him down the corridor.

“I, uh-” Dick stuttered. He hadn’t managed to think of a good reason for why he’d left Batman’s side. He couldn’t just say he wanted to explore the base—that was forbidden, and childish, too. He didn’t want to seem childish in front of the League!

Barry took the hint. He pitied the poor kid having to deal with ultra-serious Batman on a regular basis, and he knew he had been doing so for a while. The reports that Batman had taken on a young sidekick had surfaced months ago, so Barry knew Robin had probably been training with him even longer. There was no way that was fun, and Barry was firmly of the belief that kids deserved to be kids. He figured he might as well brighten the boy’s day.

“Why don’t I give you a little tour?”

“Will you race me?!”

Barry laughed, “I thought you knew who I was, kid.”

Dick grinned. “I don’t expect to win; I just want to see how I measure up.”

“Well, then, I suppose—” Dick took off down the hall as fast as he could. A _little_ childishness was okay, right? Barry laughed again, “Cheater!”

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The Flash arrived at the strength training room and stood in the entrance as he waited for the panting kid to catch up. He started to explain, “This is the—”

Dick eagerly ducked under his arm and entered. Looking up, Barry saw why. Wonder Woman was standing on the opposite side of the room, apparently having just finished a workout, taking in the view from one of the floor-length windows. She turned, saw Robin, and gave Barry a strange look. She seemed concerned, curious, but above all, amused.

Moments later, she was kneeling on the floor and flexing her arm so that Robin could poke at her large bicep. “Whoa,” he gasped.

Diana smiled, “Your awe flatters me, little bird. I had a similar reaction when I saw you keeping pace with Batman on the television.”

Dick blushed. He knew she was almost certainly just saying it to make him smile, but he didn’t care. It worked. A clock on the wall opposite reminded him—he nearly forgot that his mentor was somewhere not-so-far-away and would be ready to leave soon. There was no chance to build up to it. He had already decided this was going to be the coolest day ever, so he just blurted it out.

“I wanna try your lasso!”

Diana raised an eyebrow. “Robin,” she started.

Barry cut in, “Kiddo, that’s really not a toy—”

“I know it’s not a toy!” Dick exclaimed, “But it’s… it’s just so…” _Cool, awesome, fascinating, amazing, incredible!_ He was bursting with excitement. He turned back to Wonder Woman and begged, “Please? Make me tell you something!”

She smiled at the boy again, charmed by his curiosity. “I do not think Batman would want to hear you say that. He is very secretive.” Even still, she readied her lasso, and then knelt down to gently place a loop around the boy. Behind her, Barry laughed loudly.

“The lasso compels you to tell the truth,” she said, trying her best to keep a serious face, “….What is your favorite color?”

Dick clenched his teeth tightly together, but it was no use. The rope barely had a chance to glow golden.

“Green!”

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Having exchanged brief farewells with Diana, Barry took the boy back into the corridor. This, he understood, was what the boy had really wanted; to meet the League, not just to see their base. He wondered how he had managed to convince Batman to take him on. There was no way it was Bruce’s decision. Maybe that was the kid’s superpower; to convince people to entertain his whims.

Robin’s childish wonder seemed so at odds with everything Batman was that he could hardly believe Bruce would willingly work with him even if he were and adult. But, of course, he supposed that he didn’t know Bruce as well as he had thought—which, actually, was not very well at all in the first place. Never mind.

He explained the purposes of some rooms briefly, but was keenly aware that Robin was barely listening. His real job now, Barry thought, was to lead the boy around so that he didn’t get lost, and maybe have some fun in the process.

He heard Hal before he saw him.

“Hey, how’s it…… going?” The Green Lantern’s voice died on his lips. He squinted. “Uh, what’s going on here? Is that—is that _the Bat’s_ kid?! You better get him back to wherever he’s supposed to be before he unleashes his wrath! You know how much pent-up frustration the guy has,” he warned.

“This is awesome!” Dick declared, bouncing on the toes of his boots, “Do something with your ring!”

“Humor the kid,” Barry said, smirking wryly.

“The only thing I’m doing is getting the hell outta here before you get caught kidnapping the baby bird,” Hal responded. He turned and took a step, “Well, the only thing except this,”

“Wha—“A fluorescent emerald hand stretched forth from the Lantern’s ring and flicked Barry’s face, sending the unprepared speedster flying back several feet. He landed on his ass and clenched his fists, ready to tear his teammate a new one, but stopped when he saw Dick’s gleeful smile. No, he thought, _this_ was Robin’s power—contagious grins.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“You- you’re not his _mother,_ are you? You said you were completely human! Was it some kind of science exp—“

“ _Clark,_ ” Bruce interrupted, exasperation, “Don’t be an idiot.”

Superman frowned and crossed his arms. “I was making fun or you. Why would you take in a kid considering how many… _issues_ you have?”

Bruce whipped his head around to meet Clark’s eyes. He stepped into the Kryptonian’s personal space menacingly. “I took him in so that my _issues_ would never become his.” He stepped back, looking away. “Don’t assume I want him to grow up to be me. Quite the opposite.”

“Great. That’s not the part I have a problem with. I just fail to understand how you think it’s okay to drag a kid that age into the situations that you get into.”

“I can’t just stop being Batman, and he needs someone who’s been where he is. He has to deal with the hand life dealt him. To do that he needs an outlet, and I need to make sure it’s a good one. I might as well keep him where I can see him. Speaking of…” Bruce turned fully from the computer and looked broadly around the room. Clark followed his gaze.

“He was just here! …I should have noticed that he didn’t speak up,” Clark slapped a hand over his face.

“He slipped out around 15 minutes ago,” Bruce explained stoically.

“Why didn’t you stop him? We can’t just have a kid running around our base, Bruce!”

“The quickest way to get him out of here was to get this review done so I could leave with him,” he cast a frown in Clark’s direction. “It takes longer to analyze the insane ramblings of a felon when someone is obnoxiously chatting your ear off.”

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“I’m gonna come up with a secret message and then you read my mind and tell me what it is,” Dick proposed gleefully.

Martian Manhunter exchanged glances with Barry, each hoping the other would be the one to let the boy down. Barry was about to suggest rock-paper-scissors to decide who had to be the bad guy when J’onn finally spoke. Despite the slightly unnatural nuances of the alien’s speech, his tone betrayed the ease with which he knew how to speak to a child regardless of background.

“Mind-reading is nothing to play with, Robin,” he said softly, looking the boy in the eyes. His voice was kind but authoritative. “It is neither fun nor pleasant.”

“Yeah,” Barry added, unhelpfully.

Dick somehow made his eyes huge despite the mask (maybe that was his superpower?) and stuck out his lip. “Please? I came up with a message, and it’s a _really_ important one.”

“Robin, reading your mind would be unwise. The side effects of touching one mind to another can be exaggerated in both the still-developing minds of children and those who have never experienced a reading before. Both of these apply to you,” J’onn tried.

It was time to take out all the stops. Batman could round a corner any moment. If he was going to experience an alien mind-reading, this might be his only chance. Dick stared up at him, quivering his lip. Shifting, he looked dejectedly down at the floor.

A long silence.

“… A cursory surface reading offers less risk of side effects, but…”

“Yes!! This is so awesome!” Robin jumped up and down in excitement, and there was no turning back. J’onn and Barry looked at each other, wondering how the situation had come to this.

Sighing, J’onn asked, “Are you certain you are ready?” Dick nodded eagerly. J’onn closed his eyes and opened his mind.

_Bruce Wayne. Batman. An older man carrying a tray of cookies, looking terribly out of place in a cave. Superman. Flash. Wonder Woman. Green Lantern. Himself—_

A cry of pain stopped him cold and he withdrew from the boy’s mind in time to see him clutch at his head. Barry quickly caught Robin from behind as he swayed and sat him gently on the floor, still holding his shoulders up. “I knew this was a bad idea!”

“Robin, my apologies! Are you in pain?” J’onn could not believe he had allowed himself to be so careless and unethical! To do even a shallow mind read on an inexperienced human child carried risks from forgetfulness to migraines to—

“….message?” Robin was asking.

“Pardon?”

Dick looked up from his position on the floor, between the two worried adults. He was somewhat pale and was still rubbing at his temples, but looked otherwise none the worse for wear. “Did you see the message? It was really important!”

J’onn had always had to practice his human expressions, but this time the act of smiling came naturally to him. “Rest assured, I have received your _very important_ secret message.”

“What was it?” Barry asked, now more curious than concerned. Slightly embarrassed, J’onn turned to him.

“A single sentence. _‘Martian Manhunter is cool.’_ ”

Dick grinned, “Really, _really_ cool!”

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Clark followed Bruce as he paced out into the hall, and abruptly veered off down a connecting path. He had claimed to have noticed when Robin—Dick Grayson, Bruce had confessed his ward’s name to be—wandered off, but Clark had a suspicion that he was lying. The child of the world’s greatest detective being able to slip away without his notice was certainly impressive, however embarrassing it may be to his friend.

Turning the corner, he saw Bruce examining a small red object (he would later discover its name: “a birdarang”) on the floor. In the distance, a loud cacophonous laugh burst out. Bruce’s shoulders stiffened. “Sounds like Barry,” Clark observed. They stiffened even further.

The two followed the sound down corridor after corridor, Bruce’s pace gaining speed with each turn, and wound up near Martian Manhunter’s quarters. Bruce stood like a statue in the doorway. Clark looked in over his shoulder. Barry’s laugh cut off suddenly upon seeing Batman’s dark figure and echoed in the sparsely populated base. J’onn stood and helped Dick, who had been seated on the floor, to his feet.

“Don’t let me interrupt,” Bruce said dryly.

“Uh, Bruce, we were just—” Barry nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “I, uh, thought I’d give the kid a tour.”

“Do you always give random visitors an extensive look through of the League’s _secret_ base?”

Barry pouted. “Yeah, ‘cause we get so many _visitors._ Look, the kid was gonna end up lost if I didn’t step in, and I figured he deserved to have a little fun for a while since he has to go spend the night running around in the dark with _you._ ”

J’onn and Clark wisely kept quiet. “Robin,” Bruce said, and sidekick unenthusiastically came to his side, dragging his feet. “I told you not to wander off.”

Clark expected the small boy to crumple under Bruce’s intimidation tactics. After all, they were all still in costume, and the sight of Batman looming over with a frown on his face and a darkly sinister voice was enough to frighten any child. Clark was ready to step in when Dick put his hands on his hips and looked defiantly back up, meeting his mentor’s gaze. “You told me not to _touch_ anything,” he argued, pointing an accusing finger at Bruce. “You never said I couldn’t _explore._ ”

Though impressed by the boy’s fortitude to withstand Batman’s scolding, Clark and the others knew Bruce was going to come back full force and—

“I’ll be _more clear_ next time,” Bruce said through clenched teeth. He narrowed his eyes at his sidekick. “Let’s go. We’re wasting time.”

Ignoring the shocked expressions of his teammates, Batman strolled wordlessly past Superman and towards the teleporter room, trusting Robin to follow. The boy cheerfully scampered after him, launching into animated stories of his meeting the League.

“Did that just happen?” Barry asked no one in particular. No one answered. Clark, Barry, and J’onn trailed after the duo. Watching them take their places on the teleporters, Clark smiled warmly. He still had his concerns and the conversation was far from over, but maybe this kid could hold his own after all.

Beside him, Barry sighed, “He seems like a good kid. Hopefully Bats doesn’t take all the fun out of him.”

Dick gestured exaggeratedly as he told Bruce about meeting them. Looking down at him, Bruce had the slightest ghost of a smile on his face.

“I don’t think we have to worry about that.


End file.
